Coalition Of The Willing
by L.Hawk
Summary: A series of one-shots based on Hetaliasized country interactions in Iraq. Includes my OCs Iraq, Yemen, and Afghanistan.
1. Chapter 1

A/N-This is my first in a series of short pieces based on the Iraq war. I was sitting thinking one day when I had an epiphany of sorts. I realized that, America, at least at the beginning of the war, wasn't the only country to send troops. With that in mind, I decided to write a series based on Hetaliasized country interactions there. My knowledge of the fighting itself is limited, so bear with any mistakes on that front.

**Disclaimer: Hidekaz Himaruya totally came up with the idea of personifying countries and the personifications of many of the nations mentioned. I'm just borrowed them.**

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America was sitting in a tent, trying to keep out of the dry desert sun. He had come with his troops to fight, to rescue Iraq and his people from their evil dictator. Troops had come from countries all over the world, and there were other nations around, but he was alone, at least for the time being. Suddenly, the flap of the tent was lifted. He immediately sensed that whoever was holding it open was a nation but he didn't recognize them for a minute. Then it hit him, who it was and he lept up and ran over to embrace the other nation. "Mattie! You're here! My boss told me your boss said you weren't sending any troops."

Canada nodded, "My boss did say that, but, well, Ottawa owes one of the states a favor or something and some troops have come over. As soon as I figured it out, I hitched a ride with them."

America kissed Canada on the cheek, "I knew there was a reason I loved you Mattie!"

Mattie just blushed. Suddenly the tent flap was thrown open by an ordinary soldier, who said, "Hey, we're heading out on patrol, you coming?"

America let go of Canada and said, "I guess my troops need their hero. See ya later Mattie." And with that, he headed off on patrol with his troops.

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A/N There are several sources that indicate that yes, there are Canadian troops in Iraq. Here's a link to the article that inspired this piece, in case you're interested. .


	2. Chapter 2

England ducked his head into the tent and said, "America? Iraq?"

America's head shot up. His team had just gotten back from a patrol and a large bruise covered his right eye. He bit his lip when he saw the look on the older nations face. Iraq didn't look up, but he readily perked up from his half dozing state, paying attention to what the other nations were saying. America said, "The vote?"

England sighed, "Didn't happen."

At this Iraq lifted his head, "They were going to vote today."

Arthur nodded and sat down wearily, "Several conservatives walked out, so there weren't enough people to hold a vote."

Iraq slammed his fist into the table yelling, "Why can't they just vote properly!" He took a deep breath and said, "Fine. I don't want you in my house anyway. All you did was mess everything up."

England growled, "Mess everything up! Without me you'd just be a dusty little backwater of a nation ."

Iraq stood up and stormed to the tent flap. When he got there, he turned to England and spat, "As opposed to what?" before storming off.

America lay his head back down on the table and England made his way into the tent and sat down wearily in Iraq's vacated seat. America said, "Go easy on him Iggy. We're supposed to be here to help."

England sighed and put his feet up on the table, "Not we anymore is it? I'm getting kicked out of the country."

America sighed, "I know. When are you leaving?"

"Later this month," replied England tiredly.

America nodded, "I'm going to go see if I can talk some sense into him. I can sympathize after all." He let a small smirk grace his lips.

England opened his eyes and glared at him, "And what's that suppose to mean, you ungrateful little git?"

America tried to smirk but there was melancholy in his eyes and England's glare faded quickly. America hastily left, because England was unwilling to voice his doubts about what he had done to Iraq and America didn't want to hang around and say that he was scared; He wasn't sure he could be the hero all by himself.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, America set out to find Iraq. He found the nation a few yards away from the tent, staring off into the desert. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised. This terrain was Iraq's native land.

He approached cautiously until he was right next to Iraq.

He said, "Hey," quietly.

Iraq asked roughly, "What do you want?"

America sighed, "I was Iggy's colony too, back in day ya know."

Iraq glared at him, "Then how did you get to be a global superpower huh?"

America frowned. He actually never was quite sure how himself. "It happen overnight. I had my issues…"

"You didn't have terrorists!" Iraq snapped.

America grinned, "Exactly." Iraq looked at him like he was crazy, "As soon as we kick these terrorists out, you'll be on your way to becoming a strong and prosperous nation."

Iraq sighed, "England was helping us with that. How did you two learn to get along?"

America's smile faded, "We fought two wars on the same side. After that we were okay. Of course he still keeps bringing up my independence when he gets drunk. There's always that tension there." His smile returned, "But you're well on your way to smoothing things out with Iggy."

Iraq looked out into the desert, "Maybe, but he's still leaving. How we supposed to defeat the terrorists without his help?"

America rolled his eyes, "I'm the Hero, right?"

Iraq nodded slowly. America threw his arm around his shoulder, "I'll kick those terrorist bastards right out of here."

And, Iraq, just this once, could almost believe him.

A/N-right, that's the second drabble, it's about British troops pulling out of Iraq, which they did in summer of 2009. Also I reposted the link to the site about the Canadian troops. Hopefully it will work this time. You just have to take out the spaces.

http : // www. pacificfreepress. com/ news/ 1 / 4597-canadas-outsourced-army-in-iraq. html


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or the character of Alfred F. Jones. I also do not own the country of Yemen, thought I do own the OC representing it.

"How could you let this happen?" America asked Yemen frowning, "I thought you were cracking down on them?"

"And we are," replied Yemen, rather annoyed, "but they're fighting back."

America eyes widened, "Were you honestly expecting they wouldn't?"

"Of course not!" Yemen snapped. He sighed, "I just wasn't expecting an attack there. The complex was heavily fortified."

America nodded, "We should start trying to figure out how they managed to get in them." He pulled out a bag from a local McDonalds and removed a hamburger. Yemen stared at it. America noticed this and pulled out his knife, cutting the burger in half. He held out half, offering it to the other country while he wiped his blade on his pants with the other hand before re-sheathing it.

Yemen frowned, "Why do you care?"

America cocked his head, "Because you look hungry."

Yemen sighed, "I mean about Al Qaeda."

America grinned, "That's easy. I'm a hero, and heroes always work to defeat villains."

Yemen said, "You're not taking this seriously. None of your people are getting killed."

America frowned and took a bite of the half burger he was holding, "Do you remember when we started the crackdown?"

Yemen nodded slowly, "Last December right?"

America looked at the table, "right around then, one of them almost blew up a plane. That would have killed hundreds of my civilians. Fortunately, we were awesome enough to stop them, and nobody got hurt, but still, my people are at risk to."

Yemen grabbed the other half of the burger that was still sitting on the table. He knew what America said was true. He'd forgotten about that incident with all the fighting in his own country. And he was grateful for all the help America was giving him. Even if he was an insufferable idiot sometimes, Yemen knew he had no reason not to trust him. He took a bite as well, "So how you propose we prevent another attack?"

America looked up and offered a small smile, "Well…"

A/N-This was inspired by an actual attack in Yemen, which I read about in the Boston Globe. 11 people total died in the attack on a government security complex in Aden, 4 of them civilians. According to the Globe, America has been helping the government of Yemen crack down on Al Qaeda since December 2009. Also, I checked on Wikipedia. They do have McDonalds in Yemen.


	4. Chapter 4

The old Allies, France, England and America, had met in London to discuss what was going to be done about Libya. They had agreed, at America's urging to help her, but he'd backed out of the responsibility as much as he could, leaving England to run the meeting. Afterwards, he'd left to go to his favorite pub, claiming to need a drink. France and America had stayed in the meeting room afterwards to talk.

Alfred said, "Hey France, you didn't talk too much during the meeting."

France shrugged, "You know what my position is."

"France," began America slowly, "I don't think I can do anything. My troops are stretched thin enough as it is."

France said, "I know, America. But surly you can see that we have to help her. Look at the marks on her neck were he made her wear that collar! Look at what he's doing to her people! "

America rubbed the back of his head, "Yeah, but even a hero can't help everybody. And we are helping her, right?"

France sighed, "You know that it is not enough."

"Yeah, well, you should have spoken up during the meeting. Dude, you let Iggy run the thing," America said.

"Well so did you," France snapped back, "and besides, Nicolas was not there to back me up."

America frowned, "Yeah, that's kind of weird. He was a big supporter of the wa…conflict. I thought you didn't like him anyway."

"It is true that I do not like him very much," France replied, "But he is doing the right thing for Libya. Of that, I am certain."

America nodded, "I know what he's doing is the right thing. But I still can't commit any more troops. You know that congress won't let my boss do that."

France nodded, "I know that. That is why my president is going to send some of our greatest experts to train the rebels, and I am going with them."

America grinned, "You're going to be the hero. We'll totally be your support."

France cocked his head to one side, "America, are you sure you're okay?"

America sighed, "I always wanted to be the hero, and my people did too, but now they don't want to fight any more. We just put more troops in Afghanistan and they're sick of all the wars."

France smiled gently, "Oh America. Don't worry, I will lead on this one."

Alfred smirked, "As long as I don't have to bail your ass out like I did in Veitnam."

A/N-I was inspired by an article I read in the April 11, 2011 edition of Newsweek, that details Nicolas Sarkozy was one of the driving forces behind the war in Libya. There actually was a NATO meeting in London, which this is based on, which happened while Sarkozy was in Asia, and England's people really did run the show. And France really does have people in Libya right now training the rebels.


	5. Chapter 5

When America had asked Afghanistan if he was ready to take full control of the outpost in the Tangi Valley, he had said he was. He had actually believed it too. He had been thinking of the day before, when he had gone down to one of the villages in the late afternoon, while Alfred and some of both of their soldiers had gone out to fight. He had just arrived, and was talking to some of the villagers, when several Taliban fighters came sprinting into the main square, carrying machine guns and demanding that the villagers hide them from the NATO soldiers. Afghanistan had known exactly what his people were thinking and stepped forward. He told the Taliban fighters to leave the village, that the villagers were sick of them, and the violence they brought, and only helped them out of spite for the foreign troops. Nobody said anything for a moment, then the fighters turned around and left. The villagers had looked at him in awe. Just then, a jeep had pulled into the village, full of NATO soldiers, including America. He told them that the Taliban fighters had left, and because America believed him, so did the other soldiers, and they left the village. By that time, it had been sundown. A local widow had offered to let him use her husband's prayer mat, and he had prayed with the villagers, his people, and at that moment he had felt like he was a strong nation. He had of course, been wrong. He couldn't be in all the villages at once, and his troops were weak compared to the Taliban. American troops can in often to run missions in the Tangi Valley, which he was supposed to be protecting, and every time he saw America, Afghanistan felt somehow guilty and ashamed and mad all at once. It was mostly guilt he felt though, when he and America were at a café in Kabul, and America suddenly froze and Afghanistan could tell that something was wrong with him. After a few moments America blinked and chuckled apologetically, muttering something about casualties. Afghanistan walked with America, back to the jeep that he had taken from camp to come into the city, which he had shared with another solider from the unit he was working with. When they came to the jeep, the other soldier had told Alfred quickly about the attack: Thirty Americans dead, the worst since the war started. Afghanistan had felt so guilty then, and made a move to apologize, but America had waved him away and said that it was fine and that there had been worse American casualties during other wars, and gotten into the car with the other soldier and driven away. Afghanistan watched them drive off, America saying something to the other, who looked skeptical, probably an excuse as to why he had brought up other wars, which would have been suspicious to a non-nation, who wouldn't understand. The way he didn't understand why America was so keen on helping him, on fighting the Taliban, even when his own men were dying. The way America couldn't understand the Taliban the way he could, at least the way he could understand the Afghan fighters, like the ones that had blown up the helicopter and killed 30 of America's people and 8 of him own, and he could almost sympathize with them, before he remembered that they were destroying his country, and he felt, in that moment, much more guilty about that than ever had before.

A/N- I based this of the headline article of the Sunday August 7th edition of the Boston Globe. Basically, a helicopter was shot over in the Tangi Valley in Afghanistan, killing 30 American soldiers and 8 Afghans, making it the deadliest attack of the entire war, which has been going on for 10 years. The incident in the village I made up, although what Afghanistan said about how the villagers felt was taken from the article. Also, it is a fact that the only outpost in the Tangi Valley was handed over to Afghan security forces by NATO. Also, I do not own the concept of Personifying countries, but I did create this personification of Afghanistan. I am not an Afghan citizen, and so how he feels about the war is only supposition and does not accurately reflect the views of the Afghan citizens. That it.


	6. Chapter 6

It was just a fluke that France was there; even though his troops were there, he usually left the real fighting up to America and Afghanistan. He was there because Hollande had said he would withdraw the troops and France had realized that he hadn't been in a while. It was just a check-up, really. He'd been watching his troops exercising with some Afghan troops and suddenly, there were gunshots, and he could feel his soldiers getting shot, dying. A soldier's death felt different then a normal civilian's death. He might have taken a bullet or two himself, but he wasn't listed as one of the casualties. The nations were never listed as casualties.

It was a coincidence that Afghanistan was there as well. He could have been anywhere in the country, but he was in Kapisa Province that day, watching the soldiers train. The incident was nothing new; one of his troops fired on some French soldiers. There had been a similar incident just last month. He knew the feeling all too well; the hatred would well up and consume him, and then, sometime later, he would come to his senses and know that something bad had happened. It was a peculiar experience watching it happen; it felt almost like he was in a dream, or watching a movie. The hatred tinted his perception of things, and he felt a sort of sick pleasure in it, before he came back to his senses and it turned to sadness.

The hatred was always there. His people didn't like the foreign troops there, and so Afghanistan always had their hatred of the other nations smoldering in the back of his head. His boss told him that it was a good thing that they were there, and he believed him. He didn't want anything to do with the Taliban, and if foreign troops were what it took to get them out, then he would go along with it. He liked the countries as people well enough, or at least didn't hate them. He'd even apologized to France after the shooting had died down. In the end though, he still couldn't escape the opinions of his people, and his people hated the foreign troops.

France himself was also dealing with his people's feelings. He was standing on Pont Alexandre III, watching the convoy carrying the four bodies go by. All over Paris today, veterans were standing by the streets, holding flags, showing respect for their fallen comrades. He had his doubts about the war, but he was having a hard time telling where his doubts ended and his peoples doubts began. He knew that 82 people was a lot. Not as many as the almost 400 England had seen fall, or the more than 1500 hundred America had lost, or even as much as one tenth of that many, which was the amount of death suffered by his little Canada, but still more than he or his people were comfortable with. Even the president himself had talked of withdrawing the troops sooner than 2014, which was what NATO had agreed on. He knew that they were just empty words, and that as long the current president remained, the French troops would stay in Afghanistan.

France let his people's somber mood wash over him and thought back to Friday. The French medics had been rushing around, trying to determine who was dead and who needed medical attention when Afghanistan had approached France. The western nation had been wary at first, until he had seen the other nation's eyes, and had been able to tell that the anger had drained from them. Afghanistan had stopped three feet away from France. They had been silent for a moment, standing in the desert, looking at each other, until Afghanistan had said "I'm sorry." When France didn't respond, he had continued, "I don't hate you."

France had sighed and looked around at the wounded soldiers. "I know."

France felt as if that moment had, perhaps, been a good summery of the war. He wasn't sure that he wanted to continue with this path, but they were there, fighting, and ultimately, the Taliban did need to be stopped, one way or another. He just hoped that the young country who had stood in front of him and apologized would be up to the task.

A/N-On Friday, an Afghan soldier opened fire, killing four French troops and wounding many others. I watched footage of the memorial convoy driving through the streets of Paris in French class, so all the details about what France sees in his own country are from that. Fran_ç_ois Hollande is a French politician who is the main opposition in the next French presidential election, having won the Socialist primary. He has publicly denounced the war in Afghanistan. The current president, Nicolas Sarcozy, has been a huge supporter of the war, which is why France says he won't withdraw anymore troops then they were already going to. The death tolls are from Wikipedia, which is why I rounded, although the French and British losses were confirmed by the New York Times.

Other than that I don't own France or Hetalia, only the character Afghanistan, not the country, the details of the incident are fictionalized, my own interpretation does not necessarily reflect the views of all Afghan people, ect.

I wrote this because I'm trying to make myself write more, and I was inspired after watching the news footage of the funeral for the French soldiers. I hope you enjoyed it.


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